


Trans Enough

by KorruptBrekker



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Trans Masculine Character, Trans!Roman, not beta read we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25854244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KorruptBrekker/pseuds/KorruptBrekker
Summary: Roman is an AFAB trans masculine teen who wants to wear makeup and is lucky enough not to struggle with dysphoria. This leads to the question of if he's even allowed to call himself trans. The answer is yes, and his friends let him know it loud and clear.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Trans Enough

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: Swearing

Roman looked at himself, shirtless in the bathroom mirror. His fingers grazed his skin. His chest, his torso, his arms. He sighed. He wanted top surgery. He knew that. But he didn’t hate his body. He did for a while. For a few years he wore his binder daily, needing it to survive. But now, there wasn’t that need anymore. Sometime he’d go days without his binder and still feel okay. Granted, he still wanted a flat chest, most definitely, but he didn’t hate himself either. He figured since he wasn’t able to get top surgery for at least a few years, he’d learn to love his body in the meantime so he wasn’t miserable. He saw it as a benefit because he wasn’t hating himself, but then he began to look around him. Every other trans masculine person despised themselves, and other trans people would commiserate. Roman didn’t look down on them, he’d been where they are, but he felt like somehow he was wrong for loving himself. Was he still trans if he loved his body even though it didn’t fit the image in his head?

To add even more to the confusion, his period wasn’t dysphoric for him. A nuisance, but he didn’t hate it, and he didn’t want to go on T either. Well, he certainly wanted a more toned body, and definitely a deeper voice, but he was worried about the physical effects below the belt, and he also didn’t want to do anything to his singing voice. He still wanted to use he/him pronouns, and he still wanted top surgery, but he wanted only some of the effects of testosterone and was okay with his period altogether. What the hell did that mean.

To top it all off, he liked to wear makeup and wanted to start wearing more feminine clothing again. It felt like a betrayal to want to wear feminine clothing and wear makeup, but he wanted to. But he also was sure that he was masculine. So what the fuck did that mean? He was sure as hell he wasn’t a girl anymore, but he still wanted to wear makeup and try a skirt or two. And no dysphoria? Not wanting T? He felt like a guy, he was sure of it. But everything he wanted said otherwise. He felt like he wasn’t trans enough. That somehow loving himself and dressing the way he wanted to was somehow a betrayal. He was so confused.

He wrapped his arms around himself in a hug, part of him wanting to hate himself. Then at least he could say he had dysphoria and he could feel more trans. But he liked loving himself. He liked not using so much energy on hatred. He enjoyed being okay with himself and his body. Sure, he wanted to look a little different, but he was doing as much as he could now, and so it was no use expending energy hating something he couldn’t change. But it was all just so complicated. He shook his head, slipping his shirt back on. He pursed his lips, sighed, then walked back to his room. Crawling into bed, he willed his confusion and frustration to leave him until morning. School was tomorrow and he needed enough time to get all glammed up before the bus arrived. With a final sigh, he fell into a restless sleep, his troubling thoughts nagging at the edges of his consciousness, eagerly awaiting his awakening to continue their pestering.

* * *

Roman got up and quickly, all his thoughts from the night before returned. He frowned, not wanting to have to deal with all the confusion and inadequacy. He settled on not doing his makeup that day, deciding on dressing more masculine to appease his thoughts. He put on his binder, french tucked his red shirt into some white pants, shrugged on his red and white letter jacket, stepped into his red hightops and took a look at himself. He looked masculine and smiled a bit at that. Even so, part of him still wanted to wear makeup and try out a skirt or two. He tried to shake the thoughts from his mind, packed his bag lazily--he had time since he wasn’t putting on any makeup today--and hopped onto the bus.

The morning dragged on. He’d decided in second period that he was going to bring up the topic to his friends, but after making that decision, the minutes seemed to take even longer to pass. He was anxious to talk to someone about his troubles, but was also worried about not being validated. As far as he knew, he was the only person struggling with this and it was confusing and infuriating as hell. He was stuck in his thoughts for the rest of his morning classes, his feelings eating away at him. Finally, after what felt like ages, the bell rang for the end of class and he followed the sea of teenagers to the cafeteria. He sat down at his usual table, pulling out his home lunch. He reluctantly took a bite of his sandwich, though his stomach was in knots. After forcing a couple bites down he gave up entirely and spent the rest of the time waiting for his friends to show up, lost in thought.

Virgil was the first to arrive. “Jeez, Princey. You look like hell. Not to mention you’re much more lowkey than you usually are. What’s up?”

Roman rolled his eyes, “Astute observation Maleficent. I’ll fill you in when the others arrive.” 

His friend frowned at the lack of extravagance in his tone, but dug into the somehow FDA approved food he’d retrieved from the lunch line. Soon enough Patton and Logan showed up, each approaching Roman with concerned remarks.

“So, what did you say you wanted to talk about Ro?” Patton asked, Dad Mode activated.

Roman took a deep breath. “I have a problem. I love myself.”

Immediately, Logan but in. “I don’t see how that could be-”

Patton put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Let Roman finish and analyze afterwards, okay?”

Logan winced as an apology and nodded, gesturing for Roman to continue.

“As I was saying, I love myself. You all know I’m trans. It feels like I’m not allowed to love myself. Like, if you don’t despise yourself then you’re not trans. On top of that, there are some parts of my body that I like. I mean, I certainly enjoy my hips, and sure my period sucks, but I don’t necessarily want it gone. Not to mention that, yeah I wanna get top surgery, but I don’t wanna go on T. And I also like wearing makeup and I kinda wanna try wearing skirts and dresses again. But wanting all of that feels like I’m not allowed to call myself a trans guy. Like, I’m supposed to hate everything I used to be and was associated with, but if I do that, then I’m not myself either. I’m just so confused. I feel broken for not hating myself or being happy with this.” He gestured to his masculine dress, bummed that he didn’t have the courage to wear makeup that day.

He looked to his friends, and was met with silence. The first to speak was, surprisingly, Logan. “You say you don’t feel ‘trans enough.’ The definition of transgender is ‘a  person whose sense of personal identity and gender does not correspond with their birth sex.’ You fit that definition, therefore you are trans. If anyone tells you otherwise, then they clearly have misconstrued the definition.”

Patton chimed in. “Yeah! So what if you wanna wear skirts and makeup and stuff? Tons of boys wanna do that. It shouldn’t make a difference if you’re trans or not. You’re still a boy who wants to wear makeup and girly clothes. And that’s okay! I mean, there are a ton of queer icons who are guys who wear makeup and dresses and stuff!”

Finally, Virgil added his thoughts. “It probably feels wrong because it’s what you were forced to be associated with before you began transitioning, and that’s understandable. But, if you want to wear that stuff now, then that means you’re comfortable enough with yourself to start pushing boundaries. You were just put into another box labelled masculine, which you don’t fully fit in either. So, you’re comfortable enough with yourself to just do you. And as for the dysphoria thing, not all trans people have dysphoria, they just don’t talk about it as much as those with dysphoria do. It sucks, but that’s how it is.”

“Virgil’s right,” Logan added on. “They don’t have much to rant about, and so they stay silent for the most part. Sadly, it means that those who feel the same aren’t aware about it, but you’re surely not alone. There are quite a few people without dysphoria, and that doesn’t make them any less trans. One could argue that they’re stronger because they found a way to love themselves even though the image before them doesn’t match the image in their head.”

“Exactly! I’m sure you’ll find someone who feels the same way you do. It’s amazing that you can love yourself even when there’s that disconnect between what’s in your head and what you see. I’d say that’s pretty amazing. It may feel really lonely, but just remember, we’re here for you. And you’re allowed to love yourself. You shouldn’t have to hate yourself to be trans, that’s just stupid.” Patton finished off the response.

The all looked at Roman with concern, who had burst into tears once Patton had finished talking. He took a moment to attempt to collect himself, taking a deep shaky breath. “I-I’m okay. Don’t worry. I’m just.. really happy.. It really nice to know that it’s okay that I feel this way. I had thought I was somehow betraying my trans identity for liking girly things, or that something was wrong because I didn’t hate myself. I just- thank you guys. I love you all so much..”

Patton quickly pulled him into one of his  _ Patton _ ted hugs, embracing Roman in his strong and comforting arms. After he pulled away, Logan came in next. He wasn’t the biggest on hugs, but he certainly gave some of the best hugs of the group. He pulled away with a slight adjustment of his glasses, making way for Virgil. He wrapped Roman in an awkward hug, but even that was enough for Roman to be grateful. Somewhere he heard Patton shout “Group hug!” and felt him and Logan surround himself and Virgil. Roman was still crying, grateful to be enveloped by his three best friends. Sure, he may still have doubts, but the feelings of inadequacy were lessened substantially knowing that his friends accepted him no matter how he dressed or acted or transitioned. They would be at his side for every step of the way. They supported him in his unique journey, and they loved him for him. In that moment, surrounded by his friends, he felt enough. He didn't have to prove that he was trans. His friends had shown him that he was enough, and there was nothing more valuable than them helping him realize that.


End file.
